What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?
by karly05
Summary: Some Ferb/Vanessa romance to ring in the New Year.  Snuggle up in your afghan with a hot cup of tea and read.


**A/N – What better way to ring in the New Year than with a bit of Ferb/Vanessa Romance. Happy 2012, Everyone!**

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

Vanessa Doofenshmirtz was curled up on her mother's sofa, fuzzy gray Kitty Cat slippers on her feet, crocheted afghan around her shoulders, and a box of tissues on the end table. She had already tossed aside the magazine she'd been thumbing through, and was now jabbing at the remote, trying to find something on television that wasn't lame, obnoxious, or boring. It was December 31, and this was not how she had planned to spend her evening.

Her mother came down the stairs, fiddling with her earrings. "Honey, what do you think?" she asked, coming into the room. "Too much?"

"You look fine, Mom," Vanessa croaked, not even bothering to glance at her. This was the third time her mother had changed her outfit and she was tired of playing fashion critic. Now, a sparkly midnight blue cocktail dress obscured her view of the TV.

"Should I go back to the pearls?" Charlene fingered the silver and sapphire necklace she wore.

"Too 'Old Lady,'" Vanessa shook her head. "You look nice," she added, sincerely, reaching for the tissue box.

"How are you feeling, honey?" Mom clucked. "All right?"

"Sure, Mom, if by 'all right' you mean totally crappy," she rolled her eyes. "This is exactly how I wanted to spend the rest of my winter break." Grabbing another tissue, she sneezed loudly.

"Well, at least it held off until after Christmas," Mom pointed out helpfully. "And I'm glad you're home, Sweetie, and not up at college all by yourself. Even if you are twenty-three, you're still my little girl. Now, do you have everything you need?" she asked, glancing at the clock. "I told Sam I'd pick him up by—" She was interrupted by the doorbell. Vanessa was surprised by the sound, but it put a big smile of relief on her mother's face. "Oh, good! Your date's here!"

"Date?" Vanessa snuffled, frowning. Any further questions she might have asked were lost in a fit of coughing.

Mom had the door open and was saying, "Hi, Ferb. Come on in."

"May I say, you look lovely," he complimented Charlene in that deep, seductive voice.

"Why, thank you, dear, that's very sweet. I'm afraid I have to run," she took the car keys from her evening bag. "You kids have fun," she chirped over her shoulder to her daughter, and was gone, pulling the door shut behind her.

Vanessa regarded the tall, green-haired young man with a sulky frown. "Didn't you get my text? I can't go anywhere tonight; I'm sick."

"That's why I'm here," he informed her, setting down the cooler and the large shopping bag he had carried in. "Dr. Fletcher, at your service." Kneeling by the sofa, he took her hand in his and kissed it. "I couldn't leave such a beautiful lady sitting alone on New Year's Eve."

His adoring look coaxed a small smile from her, as she said, with a sniff, "I look awful."

"Yes. Yes, you do," he agreed, in a teasing manner, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "But I wouldn't dream of spending New Year's Eve with anyone else." Standing up, he went to fetch something from the shopping bag, and came back with a single, perfect, red rose.

She accepted it, and made the gesture of bringing it to her nose, before noting, "You realize, I can't smell anything. It's lovely, though," she added. He smiled and retreated to the bag again, this time drawing out a slim, glass vase. A quick side-trip to the kitchen to fill it with water, and he returned to place the rose in it, and set it on the end table. Now, he took from the bag a kettle and a tin of tea, and glanced at the television.

"What are we watching?"

She had ended up on the Weather Channel, where Las Vegas was being obliterated by a simulated tsunami in one of those, "Sure, It Might Happen Someday" shows. "I don't know," she grumbled. "There's nothing on."

"May I?" Ferb picked up the remote. Vanessa gestured her approval, coughing into the afghan. He clicked a couple of buttons, and up came an old black and white movie, in which a glamorous couple was dancing together as the man crooned, _"Heaven… I'm in heaven… and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak…"_ "Astaire-Rogers marathon," Ferb explained. "I thought, something a bit more romantic…?" He gave her that look, the one she had dubbed the _rrrrowr_ look, with the raised eyebrow, as he handed the remote back to her.

"Thanks," she said, laying it aside. The _rrrrowr_ look was usually a welcome sight to her, but now she remarked, "You do realize I'm not up for playing Skiddley Whiffers tonight."

He blushed at this. "Certainly. I wasn't suggesting…" Rattling the tea tin, he changed the subject. "I'm going to brew this up." Remembering one more thing, he pulled from the bag a small, brass bell and set it on the end table by the rose. "Ring if you want anything."

Vanessa watched Ferb disappear into the kitchen and turned her eyes back to the movie. A minute later, he came back to collect his cooler, and asked, "Are you feeling up to dinner? I brought some of Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro's traditional New Year's tamales, and a crock of my chili."

"Well, that ought to clear my sinuses," Vanessa remarked. "Sounds good."

"I also have a bottle of something bubbly," he offered. "Although, I'm afraid it's only sparkling cider. Apparently, eighteen is still too young to be trusted with alcohol in this country," he noted, with a little snort of derision.

"Cider is fine," she assured him. "We'll save the champagne for another year."

Ferb retreated to the kitchen, and Vanessa snuggled into her afghan and listened to the cozy sounds of tea kettle and cookware. She had no idea what the movie was about – apparently some sort of mistaken identity crisis and a phony marriage and a romance where the man was madly, adoringly in love with the woman, and she was reluctantly falling in love with him despite her best efforts to resist his suave charms, and yes, it did seem rather familiar and appropriate, as Vanessa contemplated how handsome Ferb would look in white tie and tails, and how romantic it would be if they could dance together through some Hollywood Art Deco wonderland…

Before long, her Hero returned, bearing a steaming cup of tea with honey and lemon. "Dr. Fletcher's sure-fire cure-all," he proclaimed, handing it over. "Sip on that while I finish dinner."

The tea was strong, sweet and lemony, and helped to soothe her throat and clear her head. She had drained the cup, and the movie had ended, when Ferb appeared again. "May I escort you to dinner?" He offered his hand, and she took it, shedding the afghan as he helped her up from the couch. She was dressed in a baggy black and gold ASU sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off just below her elbows, and an old pair of olive drab sweatpants. "If I'd known you were coming, I would have put on something more formal," she remarked, blushing a bit at her sloppy appearance. Ferb gave her a look that said what she was wearing was fine with him, and looped her arm through his as she grabbed her tissue box and they repaired to the dining room.

The lights were dimmed, and there were candles on the table. Ferb had plated up their dinners, and poured them goblets of ice water and flutes of sparkling cider. He assisted her with her chair, and asked, "Anything I'm missing?"

"No, it looks great," she answered, picking up her fork.

"I didn't bring dessert," he noted. "Your mother said there was mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer. I understand she won't be back until tomorrow afternoon."

"Yeah," said Vanessa, digging into her tamales and chili. "She and Sam booked the 'New Year's Bash & Brunch' at the Walworth, downtown."

Ferb nodded. "I'd be happy to sleep over, if you like. No Skiddley Whiffers," he acknowleged, raising his hand as a pledge. "In fact, I can bunk on the couch if you prefer."

"If you're staying, there's no way I'm letting you sleep on the couch," Vanessa decreed.

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied, with a look of relief.

"I'll probably get an earful about it from Mom, tomorrow," she suspected.

"I doubt it," said Ferb. He paused for a moment before he added, with a faint smile, "After all, it was her idea." He answered Vanessa's surprised look. "Oh, I wanted to bring dinner, but it was she who hinted that I might consider staying. It's no fun being sick by yourself. Besides, we're all adults here," he pointed out.

They finished their dinners without an excess of conversation. Vanessa had been right about the sinus-clearing properties of Ferb's chili, and was embarrassed to keep resorting to the tissue box, but he tactfully ignored this. The food was good, though, and left her feeling warmer and more content than she had expected. When they were done, he helped her back to the couch – she was perfectly capable of getting there, herself, but she never minded an excuse to feel his arm around her. Once she was settled, he brought ice cream for both of them. A new movie had started, and Vanessa noted that it seemed very similar to the one she'd been watching earlier. When she remarked on this, Ferb replied, "Oh, yes, it's generally the same thing. He adores her, she's annoyed by him, there's some improbable misunderstanding between them… It's all about the dancing, anyway."

Once the ice cream dishes were empty, Ferb excused himself to clean up the kitchen. Vanessa snuggled under the afghan and watched through half-closed eyes as Fred and Ginger cut another rug. When Ferb returned, she yawned, and coughed, and said, "I'm not going to make it to midnight."

"Would you like to turn in?" he suggested.

"I think I'd better," she stirred herself, reaching to shut off the TV. Again, he supported her, his arm around her waist, as they went upstairs to her room. Sitting down on her bed, she said, "There's some Mucus-B-Gone and MenthoRub in the bathroom; could you get them, please?"

While he went in search of the medicines, Vanessa changed into a lighter knit camisole and pajama shorts. They were nothing remarkable, and nothing he hadn't seen on her before, but when he came into the room, they drew from him an appreciative look that made her wish she didn't feel so wiped out. Ferb poured her a dose of the liquid, then opened the jar of rub and handed it to her. Refusing to take it from him, she asked, "Would you do it?"

With a small, indulgent chuckle, he knelt in front of her and dipped his fingers in the jar. Vanessa sighed as he spread the aromatic ointment down her throat and across her chest, above the neckline of her camisole, rubbing it in with a gentle, soothing touch. "You have a great bedside manner, Dr. Fletcher," she remarked drowsily.

Finishing, he wiped his hand on a tissue and ordered, "Time for the patient to get some rest." Standing, he bent down to kiss her cheek and said, "I'll be right back."

As he left the room, Vanessa suddenly realized something: she and Ferb had never actually slept together before. For nearly two years, he'd been making regular visits to her bungalow in Ackerton for an intimate afternoon together, which sometimes included him stealing a quick nap in her arms before he headed back to Danville, but they had never spent an entire night together before. Now, when he returned to the bedroom, she was surprised to see him wearing pajamas. Not a T-shirt or boxers or any other carelessly tossed on item of clothing, but a matching set of serious, official, gentlemanly pajamas, in a soft slate blue with narrow white stripes and buttons down the front. "You dressed up," she smiled, as he turned out the light.

She heard him make an inquisitive little, "Hm?" as he came to bed, then he said, "Oh – no, this is what I always sleep in."

"I like them," Vanessa murmured. "Now I know what to get you next Christmas."

Ferb crawled into the bed, and Vanessa turned over so she could nestle her back against his chest. He folded his arms around her and she rubbed her foot against his. As they settled in to sleep, his lips found her ear, and he whispered, "Happy New Year, Vanessa."

"Happy New Year, Ferbouche," she replied. "I promise, next year it will be better than this."

He kissed the back of her neck and murmured blissfully, "No. No, it won't."

THE END

**A/N: The lovebirds still belong to Dan & Swampy. In "The Lake Nose Monster," Candace makes reference to a "College town" called Ackerton, somewhere north of Lake Nose. Hence, I have now decided that Vanessa is going to Ackerton State University. Also, somewhere in my overall thoughts for Ferb & Vanessa, I had an unused-as-yet joke to the effect that, although Ferb, gentleman that he is, refuses to discuss with Phineas the extent of his relationship with Vanessa, Phineas is smart enough to know that Ferb's not driving a six-hour round trip to see her so they can play Skiddley Whiffers, hence the adoption of "Skiddley Whiffers" by F&V as a joking euphemism for you-know-what.**


End file.
